


Gone Wild

by angel_vixen



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 15:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angel_vixen/pseuds/angel_vixen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: "things gone wild."  Originally posted to HP100 in January 2005.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Quills Gone Wild

_James_

He loved the way she bit her lip when she was frustrated; it was definitely one of the Sexiest Things Ever. Leaning his chin on his hands, he didn't even smother his burgeoning grin.

Currently, it looked as if she wasn't terribly steamed. More confused, really. Staring as her quill merrily twitched out of her hand and commenced scratching all sorts of complimentary phrases ("eyes like emeralds," "skin like cream"), she startled when tiny doodles blinked along her textbook's margins ("Hello, gorgeous!" "You look smashing!")

A blue hair-ribbon brushed his wrist. Scripted in gold: "You prat. Just ask me out."


	2. Hath No Fury

He knew he was in trouble when he tiptoed guiltily into the kitchen and the newspaper rolled itself up and smacked him alongside his head.

Inching warily towards the table (who knew? His knife might suddenly sight a new target; he fretted over sopranos and High C's), James thankfully regarded his normal-looking breakfast.

That faded when his chair scooted out from underneath him, giggling as he flopped into an ungraceful, grumbling heap.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Lily delicately sipped her milk as she listened gleefully to the sound of a chastened James trudging up the staircase. She smoothed the blankets.

"Lily?"

She grinned.

"...m'sorry."


	3. Helpful

One of the reasons she'd married James Potter was the (albeit buried under a well-spring of mischief) was a deep caring for those he loved.

...but this was ridiculous.

"You shouldn't be on your feet!" A kitchen chair whisked up the staircase, swooped underneath her, and scooped her up. She gripped the seat-edges tightly; the ride was bone-jarring.

It was sweet, but unnecessary. Walking would not induce labor (not with 6 months to go, oh no!)

"Lily!" The lunch-table cleared itself; her "Expectant Witch" parcels scampered upstairs. She groaned.

It was nigh unbearable.

"Lily!"

She heard the chair...and ran.


End file.
